


In the Starlight

by vanete_druse



Category: The Unit
Genre: (but only a little) - Freeform, And a little dirty talk, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 00:57:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2004837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanete_druse/pseuds/vanete_druse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie Grey could've lived in denial his entire life, if it wasn't for his own backstabbing subconscious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Starlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [slashersivi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashersivi/gifts).



> This was only supposed to be a little drabble, for one of those Tumblr ask box memes where people put a prompt and a pairing for you to write. But it got a little out of hand, so I'm posting it on here instead of just on my blog.
> 
> Prompted by slashersivi, who asked for "Basorexia (an overwhelming desire to kiss), Charlie/Hector!"
> 
> I'm also really terrible with titles, so we're just going to go with it xD Hope you guys enjoy! :)

Charlie isn’t really sure how it all starts, to be honest. One day, everything is normal - he’s laughing with his team members over a cold beer straight out of the fridge, his brothers in arms that he would easily throw himself on a grenade for - the next, all he can think about is what it would be like to have Hector’s tongue down his throat and maybe his hand down his pants too, at the same time preferably.

Wait, that’s not quite right. If he thinks about it _really_ hard, there’s been a build up; the way his eyes seem to have a mind of their own and linger on the way Hector’s lips parted to lick his lips or take a sip of beer, the way his pulse speeds up just a _little_ bit more at the sight of Hector changing in the locker room, the warm feeling in the pit of his gut at the sound of Hector’s laughter.

But all of these minor signs would’ve been so easy to simply dismiss as mere brotherly affection, if he just never had The Dream.

The Dream ruined all of Charlie’s hopes of denial.

See, it starts off so normally that at first he doesn’t even realize that it is a dream. He’s fresh off a mission, enjoying his few days of leave to recuperate from the stress by stretching out on the couch with a bag of chips and the Xbox. His little game character is running around half naked, and he can’t help but beat a random person to death with a purple dildo. You know, the _usual_.

But then, Hector pops up. Which is not abnormal in and of itself, considering that they live together, so he’s kind of prone to doing that. What he is _not_ prone to doing, however, is leaning down to press one hand against Charlie’s chest and use the other to pat his curls, all the while kissing him on the mouth, soft enough as just a ‘hello’ kiss, but far too long and sensuous to be anything platonic.

When they pull away, Hector always smiles at him, the same exact smile he always gives Charlie, and says something along the lines of, “Hey there, babe.” which is usually where the dream cuts off because Charlie wakes himself up, warm and filled with a _need_ he absolutely cannot satisfy.

"You think any deeper you’re gonna give yourself an aneurysm," Hector interjects, shaking Charlie out of the memories of these dreams that play in the back of his mind every time they’re alone. "That’s why I’m the brains and you’re the brawn, you see."

"I see," is all Charlie replies, fidgeting slightly in the passenger seat of Hector’s Jeep, as the other man taps his fingers slightly against the wheel and waits.

When Charlie doesn’t speak, Hector pulls the Jeep on to the side of the road and turns the engine off. It’s secluded, just off the main road, part of their usual route back to their apartment, and considering the time of night, even more deserted than normal. “Normally I wouldn’t take such drastic measures, but considering the last mission, I think we should talk about whatever’s bugging you.”

Sudden flashes of a hot desert, blood in the sand, a searing pain his shoulder cross his mind, but when he looks up at Hector it all fades back to that damn dream, and the _realism_ and the _need…_

"This has nothing to do with the last mission. I promise," Charlie pleads, but Hector simply makes a scene of unbuckling his belt and stretching out, pretending to get comfortable in the driver’s seat as if he’s going to bed.

The movement wafts Hector’s scent over Charlie in lapping waves, and it makes him realize even _that_ was present too, and he wants to moan a little, and grab Hector by the collar and yank him close -

His seat belt tugs into his chest as he makes the initial movement to face Hector, the annoyance pulling him back to reality. “I’m waiting, Carlito.”

"I just had a stupid dream a little while ago and I can’t shake it, okay? I was just thinking of that. It’s nothing. Let’s just go."

"A…dream? What, like a nightmare? Flashbacks?"

 _This is the nightmare, jesus,_ Charlie thinks, groans slightly, lets his head bounce against the back of the chair once, maybe twice. “ _No_ , nothing like that! It was just….It was _just_ …”

"What?"

"We made out! In the dream, I mean," Charlie blurts out, before hastily adding, "Not that it meant anything, it was just, you know. Weird. Can we go now?"

It’s almost a full moon out, and added to the light from the street lamp just a little ways ahead, is more than enough for Charlie to watch the smile unfold on Hector’s face, as clear as if it were noon on a hot summer’s day. There is actual _laughter_ in the other man’s voice as he says, “Oh, is that all? A little make out session?”

"Wait, what-?" Charlie attempts to interject, but Hector continues to talk over him, as if he doesn’t hear him.

"I mean, we usually go a _bit_ farther than making out in my dreams. Well, if you consider being on your knees with my hand in your hair as going farther.”

The last time Charlie saw the glint that’s currently in Hector’s eyes, accompanied with the _smuggest_ of all smirks, he’s pretty sure at least three men died and a fourth was left fatally wounded. He feels a little bit like the latter, if he’s being honest with himself. 

"And let me guess…you had the dream, and then suddenly that idea is all you can think about. When we talk, or when I grab your arm, or when Mack pushes you into me while we’re all joking…it’s _there_ , and you stop and wonder if it would feel exactly like you dreamt it would, or if there was any portion of your dream that got it wrong.

"How many times have you stopped yourself from just reaching out and trying? How many times in this conversation _alone_? Because it’s all you want to do, is test this theory that your dream put in your head, of how it would feel to kiss me…

"Well? Are you waiting for your orders, Grey?"

It’s ridiculous that a voice alone could do so much for Charlie, but there’s something about the low huskiness Hector adopted for the speech that drives him wild - even so, he controls himself with the willpower the unit has strengthened within, to return what he hopes is an equally smug grin. “ _You_ kissed _me_ , in the dream. So, you know, it wouldn’t be the same if I started it-“

Hector has his face cupped within his hands in an instant as he pulls him close, kissing him hungrily; it’s faster, and rougher, and much more frenzied than anything he’s ever dreamed, and it leaves him dizzy and desperate for more.

When Hector tugs gently on his curls, in precisely the same manner his mind always made sure to include, he almost loses it right then, moaning into the other man’s mouth shamelessly. “Hmm, funny. The dream you loved that too.”

"Just shut up and keep fucking kissing me. I’ve been tortured for a month over this, I deserve it."

This only causes Hector to laugh, and pull away even more - Charlie isn’t going to whine because he hasn’t _entirely_ lost control of his life, but damn if the noise doesn’t at least bounce up at his throat as he contains it within his chest - and shake his head, pulling his keys up to turn the Jeep back on. “A _month_? Try a _year_ , Carlito.”

Charlie wonders how he missed the signs, until he notices the impassivity on Hector’s face as he resumes the drive back to their apartment, in complete control of his emotions, the face of stoicism.

Well, he _would_ be, if it weren’t for the back light on the dashboard, making the speedometer easy to read.  _85_ _miles per hour._

Touching his lips, Charlie sits back and consoles himself with the fact that neither of them have work in the morning. All for the better, considering how much lost time they clearly need to account for. _At least this distraction will be gone, now._

(It will take him another month or so to realize how terribly _false_ this assumption is; how not even the actuality of Hector’s mouth on his can erase the desire for it while running the TOC or planning a mission; but until then he can at least hope the long night together will bring some alleviation.)


End file.
